The Write Stuff

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We’re excited to have Brittany Roshelle with us at The Stiletto Gang today! Brittany is a freelance writer and an aspiring author of young adult fiction. Her blog, The Write Stuff, is where writers, authors, and book lovers converge to learn insider tips into the publishing world, read exclusive author interviews, and win book giveaways. Previously, she was a journalist for The Examiner as the Columbus Relationship Advice Expert. Currently, she writes for the online women’s magazine, Betty Confidential, as a Betty Fan Blogger. She recently completed her first novel and is actively pursuing agents.

Stiletto Gang: How long have you been writing?

Brittany: My father actually paid me a dollar per story when I was a little girl. He loved that I loved to write. As I grew older, I would journal every day, so much so that I often filled up a new journal every week. Since I loved to read often, I bought a new book every week as well. All of this led my father to lament that he should have bought stock in Barnes & Noble had he known what was ahead for him and his wallet.

Stiletto Gang: Where did you get the idea for your blog?

Brittany: I think a lot of people talk about writing a book, but that’s just it. It’s talk. The reason I held back from writing is that I come from a family of scientists and mathematicians. The idea that I might pursue a field that doesn’t require an advanced degree seemed laughable. And while books are everywhere, how one gets published is a big secret to most people.

I created my blog, The Write Stuff, with the goal in mind that I would contact as many authors as I could and publish their stories, their tips to publishing. Not only did I want to give any writers out there the help they needed, but I wanted to show everyone who was skeptical that getting published is possible.

Each week I interview someone new, whether it’s a New York Times bestselling author or someone with their first novel. I ask about their story, chat about their new book, and host a contest. It’s the ultimate place to learn insider tips to the publishing world and the best place to find inspiration, especially if you’re an author-in-the-making.

Stiletto Gang: What’s something important you’ve learned along the way?

Brittany: There’s no one road to publishing. Every author has a unique story. For some it took seven novels before they made it. Others got an agent three weeks after they sent out their first query letter. What is the same, though, is that everyone persevered. They’re authors today because they never gave up the dream. They kept writing, revising, and trying to get published. While publishing a book takes time, you can either be your own best friend or your biggest roadblock.

For example: What do Dr. Suess, John Grisham, and J.K. Rowling all have in common? They’re authors who were rejected multiple times by publishers. Can you imagine what would have happened if they had said, “Enough’s enough,” and gave up? While no one can say if your writing will ever make you that famous, who’s to say it won’t? You just have to hang in there.

Stiletto Gang: You also have another blog for Betty Confidential. Tell us about that.

Brittany: Yes! I have a Betty Blog called Chocolate Covered Chick Thoughts. Each week, the Betty fan bloggers and I are asked a question by Betty often relating to the most recent celebrity scandal, and it’s our job to spill on our real life relationships. Each Friday the top blogs are featured on their main website. So far, my articles have appeared every Friday.

I have the best time writing my articles. I try to throw in as much humor and advice as possible without being too serious or personal. I absolutely love it.

Stiletto Gang: You recently finished your first novel. What was that like?

Brittany: My biggest dream for as long as I can remember was to write a full-length novel. That dream has finally been realized. It feels so wonderful and gratifying…I really cannot explain it! But it’s important for me to keep in mind that my job is not over yet. The road to publication can be broken into two basic steps: writing the best novel you can write and getting it published. Right now, I’m teetering on the edge of phase two in the process. I can clearly see that writing my novel was the more enjoyable part. Spending all day inside my characters’ heads was fun, insightful, and heart-warming. Now that I’ve finished the manuscript, the business side of it all starts. The next step is to send out my query letter.

Stiletto Gang: What has the querying process been like for you?

Brittany: Reducing your book into 250-350 words is incredibly difficult. By far harder than writing the actual book. That being said, it’s all part of the process and I’m eager to learn as much as I can. Creating a killer query letter is at the top of my list; and, after working on it for a few weeks, I think I’m close to it.

Stiletto Gang: What’s the title and the genre of the manuscript you’re currently pitching?

Brittany: The Popular Girls, and it’s a contemporary YA novel. It’s an edgy tale of a young girl and her quest to find her self-worth in our fast-paced society.

Stiletto Gang: Do you think your blog has helped you finish your book?

Brittany: Absolutely! Writers have to get out there and connect with other writers. They need to do their research. Part of that is paying attention to how other authors have navigated their way through the publishing industry. More importantly, having my blog has been a way to meet new, wonderful people, and it’s a daily exercise in writing for me. You’ve got to keep those writing muscles strong and healthy.

Stiletto Gang: What’s the hardest part about writing?

Brittany: For me, it’s the end. Through the process of writing a novel, you grow very attached to your characters. I don’t like having to let that go and end it!

Stiletto Gang: Do you have any writing rituals, or something you keep on your desk everyday while you work?

Brittany: An iced white mocha latte. Often times I use it as my reward after hitting my word count. Besides that, I just need a clean workspace and a silent cell phone…and did I mention chocolate?

Stiletto Gang: Brittany, thanks so much for coming by today and sharing your story! We’ll definitely be checking out The Write Stuff and all your author interviews and contests. And good luck with your book (fingers crossed).

Life’s Puzzles on a Timeline

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The true picture of a life comes into focus only slowly. The real, rather than imagined, existence essential to non-fiction can be inconveniently opaque, downright incomprehensible, and, in the case of serial killer Aileen Wuornos, unimaginably violent. Aileen was behind bars and had confessed to killing seven men when she first crossed my radar in 1991. I was riveted, I admit. I couldn’t imagine why she did what she did. So I wound up making sense of her life for my true crime book Lethal Intent. It was like piecing together a shattered glass.

Here, a family vacation snapshot of a smiling Aileen boating with the grandparents who raised her. There, stories of her screams heard way across the yard whenever her adoptive grandfather whipped her. Here, old school yearbooks showed her smile sliding further off her face every year. There, a letter from a school counselor revealed a missed opportunity, an ignored cry for help. “This girl needs help now,” it insisted.

Learning that during adolescent kissing games no boy ever would kiss Aileen made the sting of her rejection palpable. Between ages eleven and twelve, she began selling her body for packets of cigarettes, earning the nickname “cigarette pig.” It was clear that she was sexually abused, but Aileen’s stories were ever-changing and slippery. However, she got pregnant at fourteen and had a son who immediately was whisked away from her. In Florida, working as a prostitute, she once drunkenly held up a mini-mart while wearing a bikini.

As I interviewed, researched, and covered her murder trial, the puzzle pieces kept piling up. She wasn’t charged in one of the seven murders to which she confessed. She was too drunk to remember where she left the victim’s body. And to this day, the body of part-time missionary Peter Siems has not been recovered.

So many scenes swirled in my head. They drew me right into her world but did not tell me why she was a serial killer. I have a huge, detailed timeline of Aileen’s life to thank for that. It stared down at me from my office wall for ages before it began to speak to me.

Then it hit me. Aileen suffered from borderline personality disorder, said the experts, and was consumed by fears of abandonment. The timeline showed me that those fears and the stress on her all-important relationship with Tyria Moore, her girlfriend of four years were, for varying reasons, through the roof in the days preceding each murder. Often, she had no money, and in her mind, having cash was essential to hanging on to Tyria.

As a teenager, Aileen drove people away with her explosive temper and tried to buy the friendship she craved by supplying beer for parties. Adult Aileen stole hundreds of dollars from many of the men she murdered. She carried Windex in her “kill bag” with her .22 caliber gun and methodically wiped away any fingerprints. Then she’d scoot home triumphantly, waving wads of dollar bills to pay for rent and beer – a short-term fix to quiet her dread.

The timeline showed me that she committed at least five of the murders when her jealousy and fears that Tyria would leave her really escalated. A pretty blonde heterosexual co-worker of Tyria’s joining them for Thanksgiving and being close to Tyria shook Aileen up a week before her first known murder. And when Tyria’s 18-year-old sister visited, Aileen’s murders spun out of control. Aileen was incredibly jealous of the sisters’ tight bond and was petrified that Tyria would move back with her family and leave her. She killed three men in six weeks. With the hundreds of dollars she scored, the women partied and went to Sea World.

Ultimately, I felt as sure as I’ve felt about anything: Aileen killed – she said it herself – to avoid leaving behind any witnesses, but her “killing days,” as she called them, were when her fears of being left overwhelmed her. For me, the timeline on my wall was the key to understanding.

Do you think the timeline of your life would reveal anything important about you? If so, do let us know. We’d love to hear from you.

Aileen Wuornos was executed by lethal injection in October, 2002, after a decade on Death Row. Award-winning journalist and author Sue Russell’s book “Lethal Intent” is being re-issued in November 2010 as a Kensington Books “True Crime Classic.” Visit her at sue@suerussellwrites.com, or follow her on Twitter or Facebook

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Sue Russell is a California-based, internationally syndicated award-winning journalist and the author of several non-fiction books including the top-selling true crime book, Lethal Intent. Sue has had over 1,500 articles published with her work appearing in the Washington Post, New Scientist, Miller-McCune.com, American Legion, Tru TV’s Crime Library, Redbook, Good Housekeeping, Southwest Airlines’ Spirit, and the Detroit News and San Diego Union-Tribune.

Buy Lethal Intent: Lethal Intent is being reissued as a Kensington Books “True Crime Classic.” Find it in bookstores or order it online at your favorite bookseller. amazon.com bn.com booksamillion.com indiebound.org

Treasures Returned

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Back in the spring, I wrote about an elderly woman who lived in town—Mrs. C.—and how after she had passed, certain members of her family took it upon themselves to take all of her belongings and put them at the curb for people to take or for the garbage men to dispose of. I wrote about how sad it was that a woman’s life, rich and full when she was alive, had been reduced to sacks of garbage in front of her house. My friend, the wonderful Tina, was happening by as Mrs. C’s stuff—rather, Mrs. C’s life—was being pitched out with the trash, and took those things that she considered treasures: beautifully-bejeweled brooches, an antique lamp, an oil painting in need of a new frame, some costume jewelry, and a couple of rings. Tina also took some furniture which now resides in the new Teen Room at our local library, a donation on behalf of this lovely woman whose possessions were carelessly tossed aside in the interest of expediency. She took the stuff because nobody else seemed to want it.

Tina is also a crafter, so after sifting through Mrs. C’s costume jewelry, came up with a plan to make me a frame with some of the choicest pieces. She knew that Mrs. C’s son and his family had lived next door to Jim for many years and that our families were old friends, even if we don’t see each other very often. The frame that she made me, bedecked with baubles and colorful rhinestones, has sat on the bookshelf in my office since the spring. Tina also made a donation in Mrs. C’s name to our local caring committee, a team who visits the sick and homebound and who also provide food and necessities to those in our village in need. Mrs. C’s material goods did not go to waste, that was for sure.

I know Mrs. C’s’ granddaughters, but admittedly, hadn’t seen them in a long time. I kept thinking that I needed to get in touch with one of the three to let them know that I had some of their grandmother’s things, but I wasn’t sure if they had been part of the team who had cleaned out the house. Maybe they didn’t want her things. Maybe I should mind my own business.

I went to the local grocery store this past Saturday and ran into two of Mrs. C’s granddaughters, Meaghan and Colleen. As they were loading donated groceries into a van on behalf of the aforementioned caring committee, for whom they volunteer, I took a chance and mentioned that I had some things from their grandmother’s house. Colleen immediately welled up and explained that her immediate family had had nothing to do with the purge and that it had been solely the idea of other family members who just wanted the house cleaned out. Her family had received none of Mrs. C’s items; by the time they were alerted to the house cleaning by various friends in the village, everything was gone, having been put at the curb and picked over by people who were told that everything was for their taking. I told Colleen that I had the beautiful frame that Tina had made from her grandmother’s old costume jewelry, the lamp, and some other items. Colleen said that none of her grandmother’s items were worth anything monetarily but for her father, Mrs. C’s son, they would provide a memento of his mother.

I went home and called Tina, telling her that I had seen the girls at the store. She immediately came over with a gold and amethyst ring as well another sterling silver ring in need of a setting. I looked Colleen up in the phone book but she isn’t listed so I found her on Facebook. I sent her an email on Monday morning and she was at my house within a few minutes to collect the things we had kept. This weekend is her father’s birthday; he’ll be receiving a picture of his beloved mother in the frame that Tina created from her jewelry.

I’m not sure what I want to say about this story, but Colleen’s sister Meaghan summed it up when she remarked that when you take the high road, good things eventually happen. (I’m paraphrasing, but you get the drift.) Colleen and her sisters stayed out of the family fray and in the end, thought they had lost everything. But thanks to Tina and her intrepid treasure-hunting, Colleen and her sisters—as well as her dad—now have some lovely mementoes of their grandmother’s life. I hope they enjoy them.

Maggie Barbieri

Oh My, Election Day

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I hope everyone is planning to vote and that this will be the end to all the ads and phone calls.

I always vote absentee ballot and did so much earlier. I can’t stand the way the politicians act no matter the party. My gut feeling is that politics corrupts. The nicest person with only the best motives for being in office will eventually be corrupted by the system. It worked a lot better back when being a politician was a volunteer job and people did it because they truly wanted to help run the country the best way possible.

Oh, well, we can’t turn back the clock.

I won’t talk politics to hardly anyone. I don’t like to see the stuff on Facebook about politics. I don’t like being called stupid because I don’t belong to the same party as the one saying I am.

One of my publishers, who also has become my friend, and I have totally opposite views on politics and religion. Right from the start we agreed to never discuss either. Works well and we’ve remained friends because of this pledge.

Anyway, hopefully the worst will be over at the end of the day and we can get on with more pleasant things to talk about and things we can agree upon.

My wish to everyone is that you each will do what you can to make each day pleasant for yourself and others.

Marilyn

Just Do It! Vote!

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Some great points were made by comedian/commentator Jon Stewart on Saturday. No matter what your political party, I hope we can all agree that everyone needs to work together to make things better. Honest debate is good. Hate speech isn’t. You can make a difference, it starts by voting. The results from tomorrow’s elections will change lives and futures! Be a part of the process. Vote!

Greater than the Sum of the Parts

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by Rachel Brady

Disclaimer 1: The following opinions are entirely mine and do not necessarily represent those of NASA or its employees.

I work for a NASA life sciences contractor. This week, my company had an All-Hands meeting. Usually at these things, they entice attendance by offering us snacks and interesting guest speakers. At Johnson Space Center there is no shortage of remarkable people with fascinating stories to share. I always learn something.

This week’s guest speaker was NASA’s Director of Space Medicine, Dr. J.D. Polk. He spoke about his role in the rescue of the Chilean miners and geared his talk toward those of us in the room, all cogs in the wheel, really, to remind us that the whole is more than the sum of the parts… that our contributions at the lab level really do matter.

I’ll tell you some of the neat things he said, and then as usual I will offer my parallel about how yet another thing I’ve experienced appears to be a metaphor for Life.

Disclaimer 2: I didn’t take notes. Assume all these facts are wrong. It’s the gist that’s important.

The miners, he said, had been isolated for seventeen days before they were found. They were surviving on something like a tablespoon of tuna every two days, only fifty calories a day. They were starving, and for medical reasons I can’t remember, if you feed a starving person too quickly, you will kill him.

NASA had simmed this (our language for “simulated this”) for an old Hubble mission. Back then, the aim had been to prepare for a scenario in which crewmembers were stranded on orbit in a disabled vehicle. Weeks might pass before the next Shuttle could launch. How would we ration supplies? Our scientists had all the original data, including the spreadsheets and graphs that showed how much food to give a stranded crewmember in conditions like these. The folks on-site in Chile were able to bring the miners back to health successfully, thanks largely to the fact that NASA could so quickly produce the data they needed.

The next concern was what kind of health problems each may be suffering. The question was posed, “Which test do we do on-orbit that provides the most comprehensive information about a crewmember’s health?” It’s a urine test. Through urine tests, half of the miners were found to be in the early stages of kidney failure due to severe dehydration. Docs got to work on specific plans for each patient to turn this condition around.

Sometimes the NASA doctor and the NASA psychologist disagreed. It can be as important to care for a crewmember’s mind as it is to care for his or her body. The mental effects of long term isolation are ones I can hardly comprehend (most Space Station missions are six months long – the Russians have gone way longer). Anyway, at one particular juncture, the conversation was not about isolation but about smoking cigarettes. The miners wanted them. The doctor couldn’t abide. But the psychologist rallied on behalf of the miners. Polk said, halfway joking, that the argument was that otherwise they all would have killed each other. I thought this was an interesting example of professional compromise between two specialists focusing on different parts of the total Human.

Orthostatic intolerance is a cardiovascular effect commonly seen after spaceflight. My understanding of the condition is that, upon returning to earth, the cardiovascular system is now unaccustomed to pumping against gravity and can’t always do this effectively. Consequently, blood pools in the lower extremities and folks are prone to passing out. Usually, if a person passes out, they end up horizontal, and this works out fine because now the heart and brain are on the same level and the brain can get the oxygen it needs.

In the case of the miners, I believe Polk said they came up through a tube about 21” in diameter. No one was sure how long it would take to make the trip from the mine to the surface, and orthostatic intolerance was a huge concern. In this configuration, should a miner pass out, they would not go horizontal and the consequences could be devastating. Returning crewmembers are instructed to fluid load to counteract the effects of orthostatic intolerance. They also wear compression garments on the lower extremities to try to force body fluids to go upstairs. I was once a test subject and had an opportunity to wear these “compression garments.” Let me tell you. It is like squeezing your leg into industrial-strength pantyhose made for something the width of your wrist! Spanx can’t touch these things.

The flight docs were very familiar with the fluid loading and compression garment protocols and were able to share this information with the crew at the site. It was another example of how NASA’s experience with sustaining life in extraordinary conditions came into play in the rescue.

There was one other thing. Fuzzy memory here. Something in the body was depleted, I want to say it was some kind of vitamin or electrolyte, who knows… not important. But when this is depleted, and alcohol is consumed, again, death is assured. Just trust me and go along with it. Everyone knew that when these guys came up, there would be some serious partying. So the doctors went to great care to basically dose them up on whatever was required to save them from their sheer, unadulterated, partying joy. I kind of liked the thinking ahead part of the happy ending.

The intention of his talk was to encourage us. Each of us in our various labs contribute in ways that sometimes feel insignificant and he wanted to remind us that yes, the work matters.

Throughout the talk, he had one slide up in the background, and it wasn’t even a picture of the miners. It was a picture of a boy, about ten years old, with the most poignant blend of grief and relief on his face. Polk said, “Because we do what we do, this kid still has a dad.” I’m tearing up again just thinking about that.

Disclaimer 3: I heard nothing in his talk that tied the work of my particular lab (Neuroscience) to the Chilean rescue, but I cried like a girl anyway.

So I’ve been mulling over this speech for a few days and realizing that so much of life is this way. We see through our own lenses, and reach only our own small circles of influence. But when your circle of influence overlaps with mine, and mine overlaps with his, and his touches Oprah’s… well, you see what I mean.

We all have unique strengths, some of which may seem insignificant to us but are enormous to another person. The only way to optimize our gifts in life is to share ourselves.

Carpe diem, friends.

Twisted Sisterhood or Small Acts of Kindness, by Misa

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Recently, I was on my way to Dallas to attend a Texas Beef Council special event hosted by a fellow blogger (shout out to June Cleaver Nirvana Holly Homer!!). My daughter had been having a horrible time adjusting to 5th grade. She wasn’t sleeping, was angst-ridden over EVERYTHING, was so unhappy with her body (she’s 10!!! This worry and seeking of validation from others starts WAY too young), and was obsessing about middle school (which is still a year away).


I heard Katherine Schwartzenegger on a radio show, talking about her new book, Rock What You Got. I sat in my car and listened as she expressed how she’d felt exactly what my daughter was feeling. Needless to say, I stopped by the bookstore on the way home and picked up Rock What You Got. We’re reading it together and it’s really helping! Amazing.


Today I heard Kelly Valen talk about her new book, Twisted Sisterhood. It goes beyond the issues discussed in Rock What You Got (and I’m anticipating needing it as my girl gets older), tackling the complicated relationships women often have with one another, including passive aggressive behavior, mean girl behavior, bullying (anyone hear about Joy Behar on The View with her “comic” bullying?), and other layers of complexity and judgement within these relationships.


I see them starting now with my daughter, and while it’s great to observe and use in character development, it’s definitely not good for a girl trying to figure out who she is, what she believes, and where her validation comes from.


All this got me thinking about why it is we (meaning our culture) work so hard to tear others down instead of build them up.


I’m absolutely of the simplistic mindset that little acts of kindness go a long, long way, and shouldn’t we spend our energy on that kindness instead of on negativity?

Think about these scenarios. What would you do if:


  1. You’re on a two-way surface road driving south and there’s a lot of traffic, including a line of cars coming the other direction, in their turn lane, trying to turn left across your lanes. Do you stop before the intersection and let the cars make their turn, or do you block the intersection? (As I drove to a class I teach in Dallas tonight, I watched as car after car after car stopped in the middle of the intersection, blocking those cars who were trying to turn. When I approached the intersection–and mind you, traffic was slow up ahead so it’s not like I was blocking traffic behind me–I stopped so the cars could turn. But cars in the lanes on either side of me kept going, edging forward. It took a good minute or two before the cars in the other lanes stopped so those people could make their turn).
  2. You walk down the aisle at the market and come across something that had fallen from a shelf and is on the floor. Do you pick it up and put it back on the shelf, or leave it? Time after time, I watch as people walk on by. My kids do it at home. Walk ON the pillow instead of picking it up! ARGH!!
  3. People are coming out of a concert. You’re in a hurry. Do you wait your turn, or dodge people, cutting them off as you dart in front of them? Why not slow down and just wait?


I wish we could all be just a little more kind, because the reality is, you never know the impact your small act of kindness will have on someone else. Case in point, I got an email two days ago (at exactly 9:51 am 🙂 and it changed my whole day.


Misa,

OMG! This book [Cursed] was good. It’s a good thing that I DVR’d my shows, because I could not put this book down. That twist with the brothers, I did not see that coming. This was a great read.

I’m starting The Chain Tree tomorrow. I anticipate another giving up the TV show for this one as well.

Again, what a great story.


I think the fact that this reader took the time out of her day to tell me how she loved my book is amazing. She didn’t get anything out of it (except my everlasting devotion), but her message made me smile and feel giddy inside. It made my day (still is, in fact, two days later). I’m sure she had no idea how her message would make me feel.


Small acts of kindness. Isn’t that what we should spend our energy on, rather than the complicated twisted sisterhood relationships we focus too much time on? I imagine we’d all smile a lot more, don’t you?





The Election Season

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In another week, life as we know it will return to normal.

Why? You ask.

The election will be over.

I know I say this every year, but I have never seen so much mud-slinging as this season of the mid-term elections has brought. In New York alone, we are assaulted by negative campaign ads—apparently the only kind that exist anymore—on a continual basis and when we’re not being forced to watch those, we are receiving robo-calls every hour imploring us to vote for a certain candidate.

In my opinion, they all stink.

In the governor’s race here in the Empire State, we have a Buffalo bazillionaire running against a rather bland, yet effective, Attorney General. We have several people running for State Senator, none of whom I know a lot about except for the fact that one has recently lost a lot of weight and was featured in a Vogue spread. I don’t know how that’s going to affect the things that matter in our state if she is elected, but at least she’ll look good making some changes? I’m grasping at straws here.

We have another candidate running whose campaign placards around the village boast “Women 4 Ball.” If you couldn’t guess that his last name is “Ball” you might wonder what the women of my village were actually supporting. I, for one, am not supporting ball of any kind, except maybe Jet football. (We’re 5-1…go Jets!)

Then, because I’m lucky enough to live in the tri-state area, we’re subjected to negative campaigning that relates to the races run in Connecticut. So, if I get bored with Ball or the bland, yet effective Attorney General, I can watch former WWE chairwoman Linda McMahon beat the verbal stuffing out of some guy who pretended he was in Viet Nam but was really only a reservist stationed in Nova Scotia or some hotbed like that. Newsflash: Peggy’s Cove is not as dangerous as Dien Bien Phu so don’t try to pretend it is. We, the people, are a little smarter than you give us credit for.

Then, there’s the gubernatorial race in California with candidates Jerry (I dated Linda Ronstadt) Brown and Meg (eBay) Whitman. The only thing I know about these two candidates is that they, or their political operatives, have both used a derogatory word to describe the other and that it rhymes with “bore.” Nice.

It has gotten so bad that I don’t know who is running for what or what their platform is or even if they have a platform beyond “Hey! That guy stinks!” This election season is bringing out the worst in everyone with any single message being diluted. There seems to be an incredible amount of anger in the country, which to my thinking, is about six years too late, but that’s a post for another time.

Is there an honest politician left in this world? Is there someone who can run a campaign with integrity without resorting to calling the other guy/gal schoolhouse names and dredging up a missed credit card payment from their college years? Is there any basic decency, not to mention courtesy, left in American politics? It would seem not. And that, to me, is even more disappointing than a candidate who doesn’t know that yes, Christine, there is a separation of church and state in this great land. And because of our Constitution—a masterpiece of tolerance and acceptance—you can practice wicca, free from fear of persecution.

What’s going on in your states, Stiletto faithful? (And you Canadians on board can comment and laugh at us…I give you permission.) Is it as disgusting, and off-message, where you are as it is here?

Maggie Barbieri

Do I Really Write Cozies?

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When I was first invited to be on this list, I think it was because it was assumed I was writing cozies. Every time I read the definition of a cozy, I don’t think my books quite fit that category.

In my Deputy Tempe Crabtree mystery series, of course Tempe is a resident deputy sheriff. Most deputies don’t solve murders, but she lives in a small town in the mountains–the Southern Sierra in California to be specific. She covers a much larger area than the town, including the local Indian reservation. Often times, just the fact that she is Native American is the reason she is involved in murder investigations.

The Rocky Bluff P.D. series, set in a small beach community, revolves around the lives and families of the members of the police department and how the job affects the families and what’s going on in the family affects the job. Of course, there is always a murder.

In neither is the sleuth a non-professional with a hobby or job that is what seems to constitute a cozy.

What might qualify my books as cozies is the fact that I don’t use any bad language and I shut the bedroom door.

In any case, I’ve been with the Stiletto Gang since the beginning, and I love hanging out with all these bright young women.

My latest Tempe Crabtree mystery is Invisible Path. Tempe is taken away from planning her family’s Christmas celebration by the murder on the reservation of a popular young Indian man which somehow seems connected to a para-military group with a compound hidden high in the mountains. Mundania http://www.mundania.com is the publisher.

Marilyn

A Note from an Old Neighbor

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I loved the old house the moment I saw it. There was an elegance to it. It had, as the realtor reminded me, “good bones,” despite the old-fashioned kitchen and bathrooms that we had no money to update. But it had seven bedrooms, a Palladium window on the landing of a staircase that would have enchanted Scarlet O’Hara, and a back stairway from the attic down to the kitchen (for the maids who undoubtedly lived in the attic when the house was first built). It was way too big for our family of three, soon to be four, but I loved it.

It wasn’t until we had moved in, however, that I learned what I really loved about this old house – the neighbors that came with it. Right next door was a sweet retired couple, Jean and Raymond. He had been the librarian of the Divinity School, and in a cruel twist of fate, had developed macular degeneration. By the time we knew them, he could no longer read. But his wife, a kind, gentle lady who did beautiful cross-stitchery, could. I can still hear her reading to him as they sat on their enclosed screen porch, throughout the spring and summer months. When I had the baby I was carrying when we first moved in, she made totally impractical, but absolutely gorgeous cross-stitched bibs. I still have them. And for the “big brother,” she made a tin of chocolate chip cookies on which she had written, “Charlie’s Cookies.” I still have that too.

Next to them lived another lovely couple, Kathleen and Achille. He was the assistant superintendent of schools, while she taught hospitalized children. They had five kids of their own, but all were grown except the youngest son, who was a senior in high school. They were devout Catholics. She attended Mass every morning, but never failed to send me a Rosh Hashonah card, even after we moved out of state. Christmas in their own home was a wonderful mix of faith, traditions, and just plain fun. They collected crèches and every surface in the house, during the season, was covered with manger scenes, large and small. My favorite, and I think theirs too, was the one their son had made when he was a preschooler: the three kings were Fisher Price little people and the animals around the baby Jesus were from the Fisher Price barn set. Achille was a master baker and spent one afternoon teaching me the rudimentary basics of cake decorating. On the dining room table at Christmas would be a gingerbread sleigh that he had made, filled with home-made gingerbread men, women, and children. It was a family comfortable in and comforted by their faith.

We moved oh too soon, but kept in touch with annual cards that would bring each of us up-to-date on the families. Kathleen was the one who told me in her annual Rosh Hashonah card about the passing of Jean and Raymond. I learned of Kathleen’s death when Achille sent me the annual card, saying he wanted to honor Kathleen’s tradition of staying in touch. His card was late arriving last year, but when it did, I learned that he had cancer, had had seven operations that year, but still wanted to wish me and mine the very best. When the card didn’t arrive this year, I feared that the tradition had ended. Today I learned that Achille had passed away in the spring.

I only knew these four remarkable individuals for a few years, but they left a lasting impression on me. They taught me about grace in the face of adversity; of generous spirits and genuine kindness. And I know that my life has been richer because I was blessed to have known them all. Rest in peace – and thank you.

Marian

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